


Into Something Good

by tinx_r



Category: Riptide (TV)
Genre: Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-02-23 12:57:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23745103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinx_r/pseuds/tinx_r
Summary: It wasn’t the beginning, because that was ten years ago, in a war in a jungle neither had really believed would end. But it was a new start, and that came with its own challenges...
Relationships: Cody Allen & Nick Ryder
Comments: 10
Kudos: 14





	Into Something Good

**Author's Note:**

> For milomaus

“Keeping a diary now?” Nick asked as he ascended the stairs from the stateroom he shared with Cody, laden with a cardboard box of dirty laundry.

Cody, seated at the table with a pen between his lips and a book open in front of him, looked up and grinned. “Hardly. Wait, you’re doing laundry? I oughtta do some too.”

“Got it already.” Nick gestured at the laundry basket sitting near the steps. “Didn’t bring your sweaters though. You wanna wash them, you’re coming along.”

“You’re volunteering to do my laundry?”

“I’m going anyhow.” Nick shrugged. “Got any quarters?”

“Uh, sure.” Cody dug in his pocket and dropped a handful of coins on the table. “I guess I could go out for supplies. We’re getting kind of low.”

“Great.” Nick dug in his pocket in turn and handed Cody a couple of bills. “Let me know if you need more.”

“This should be fine.” Cody stood, closed and pocketed his book and the notes, then picked up the laundry basket. “You taking the ‘Vette?”

“Thought I’d walk.”

“Why don’t I drop you off? Saves carrying all this stuff.”

“Sure.”

They loaded the laundry into the back of the Woody, and were silent for the short trip to the laundromat a couple of blocks away.

“Thanks,” Cody said, as Nick got out of the car and retrieved the laundry. “I appreciate it.”

“No big deal,” Nick said with a grin, and Cody headed for the supermarket, still a little off balance.

He and Nick had bunked together in the MPs, but civilian life was different. Since getting out they’d been scrounging to make ends meet, and until they’d gotten the Riptide - Cody’s boat, but 50/50 Nick’s cash - they’d been making do, Nick bunking down with friends on the airfield when he could, Cody sleeping out back of the surf shop where he’d worked every hour he could, saving for the boat.

Now they were room mates, or boat mates, and Cody was still figuring it out.

He’d moved from his comfortable, structured home life to college, and within the first few months moved in with Janet. She certainly hadn’t done his laundry - or done anything for him except cause him debt and heartache, when he thought about it. Then the army and Vietnam. 

After all of that, his brief stint rooming with Byron Monk - partying too hard, pretending the war had never been. Luckily he’d been smart enough to clean up his act, find Nick again, and go back to the MPs. 

And now here they were, buddies, roommates, boat owners. Business partners soon, as soon as Cody’s speed boat (all his own money) and Nick’s helicopter (50/50) became reality. 

Cody wandered around the supermarket, comparing prices, filling the cart with must haves (beer, bacon, eggs, butter, cheese, peanut butter) and a few nice to haves (cereal, soup, sausages, a small package of steak). His speedboat was ordered, the reason he’d taken Nick’s cash to put down on the Riptide. They had another twelve months slog at whatever they could find to repair their finances and get Nick a chopper, and then the Riptide Harbor Tour business would be in operation for real.

He loaded the groceries in the old car and headed home, detouring via the laundromat again. 

“Hey, great timing,” Nick said as Cody came in. “The driers only have a few minutes left to go.”

“Great.” Cody sat down next to Nick and pulled the book he’d been studying earlier out of his pocket. “I’ve been thinking of package deals. The Riptide’s vintage, we can market that. Harbor tours, fishing charters, water skiing once the speed boat arrives.”

“Is that what you were doing there?” Nick peered over his shoulder, raising his eyebrows at the column of figures. 

“I’m kinda worried about the slip rent and stuff. All this time we’ve had no expenses, and now we do. It’s gonna put a big dent in how much we can put away.” Cody glanced at Nick. “I took your cash for the Riptide, but now it’s gonna take longer to get your chopper.”

“We needed somewhere to live.” Nick shrugged. “We didn’t get the boat, we would’a had to rent someplace. I dunno about you, but I was wearing out my welcome.”

“I guess.” Cody shrugged. “Anyway, I talked to the guys at the boatyard and there’s a night security job going. Figure I can take that, then do some charters and stuff daytime. Security pays better than the surf shop, too.”

“Night security? You haven’t had enough of being a cop yet?” Nick grinned. “You’ll have to sleep sometime, big guy.”

“Well, I don’t figure I’ll get bookings every day. There’ll be bad weather, and weekends will be busiest, anyhow.” He shot Nick a sideways glance. “Figured you’d maybe help me out on your days off, if you didn’t mind?”

“Mind? You put all this work into our business plan before I knew we could even have a business, plan a twenty four hour schedule for yourself and you think I'll mind? Ah, man.” Nick put an arm around Cody’s shoulders, squeezed. “You got it, you know? An’ I been thinking too, I didn’t tell you, but I quit my job Friday.”

“What?” Cody’s eyebrows shot up. “At Oxnard? What happened?”

“It’s kind of a long commute.” Nick shrugged at Cody’s look. “There's a construction outfit in town hiring. I called in on my way home Friday. I start Monday. Hourly’s lower but it’s a regular check, I’ll make nearly double what I was clearing most weeks when you factor in the gas.”

“A construction project wants a full time chopper pilot?”

“No, man, I’ve signed on as a labourer.”

Cody stared at Nick. “You hate being grounded. You hate punching the clock.”

Nick stood up and punched Cody lightly in the shoulder. “Yup,” he said, and shrugged. “Twelve months of this for a lifetime of freedom. That’s how I see it. C’mon, drier’s done.”

***

Cody wasn’t the world’s greatest cook but he did okay on mac and cheese, fried chicken, and grilling steak. Wednesday he’d gone for sausages and eggs, had it on the table when Nick came in along with a couple of beers. 

“Man!” Nick’s eyebrows shot up and he collapsed thankfully into the booth, grabbing a beer as he sat. “This looks great.”

Cody squirted sauce on his plate and grinned. “Nothing fancy.”

“You don’t have to do this, you know?” Nick took a long drink, put the bottle down and reached for the sauce. “I’ll take my turn.”

“You don’t like my cooking?” Cody cocked an eyebrow, mock-hurt but listening. He knew of old that Nick preferred to give than take; was uncomfortable being cared for and hated to accept even gravely-needed help. 

“It’s not that.” Nick shot him a grin, and as he put the sauce down, his fingers brushed Cody’s wrist. “Just seems like you’re going to an awful lot of trouble.”

Cody shrugged. “I gotta eat too.”

“Yeah, I know.” 

They ate in silence after that. When they were done, Nick started to clear the table, and Cody stood up. “Why don’t you leave that for now?”

“You cooked, I’ll clean.”

“No arguments, buddy. I’m gonna watch the sunset. Wanna come?”

“I'll join you when I’m done.”

Cody nodded and went out to the fantail. Inside he could hear Nick moving around, soft noises from the galley at the other end of the boat.

This week, Nick working construction, Cody working night security, they hadn’t seen a lot of each other. Cody sighed, watching the water, supping his beer. It wasn’t that he wanted to live in Nick’s pocket now they bunked together again, but he’d been looking forward to hanging out.

By the time Cody went below to don his uniform, Nick was still banging around in the galley. “See ya,” he called on his way out, and Nick ran up the steps to the salon, wearing a frown. 

“I didn’t realize it was so late. Sorry, man.”

“Don’t sweat it. See you at sun-up.” Cody reached out just as Nick did, a quick clasp, hand-to-elbow - their check-in since forever. It brought a smile to Cody’s face. “Sleep tight, big guy.”

Night security was possibly the most boring gig in the world, but the money was good. Cody reflected on Nick’s words - twelve months for a lifetime of freedom - and found himself in agreement. They had, after all, done a great deal worse in their time.

Cody pushed away thoughts of a distant jungle, waved to the boatyard manager and headed for the pier. He couldn’t wait to hit the sack - an added bonus to the night work was that sleeping in daylight had so far been free of the nightmares he’d suffered regularly since returning from Vietnam. 

Maybe that was simply an adjustment, but in the meantime, he was enjoying his uninterrupted rest.

“Hey, man.” Nick was sitting at the table in the salon, and as Cody entered, he slid a plate of bacon and eggs toward him. “Hungry?”

“I was gonna turn in,” Cody said, taking off his jacket. His mouth started watering however, and his stomach growled. 

He looked at Nick and they both laughed. Cody sat down at the table and picked up a fork. “Thanks, buddy. This is great.”

Nick got up and poured them both coffee. “I gotta run in ten,” he said, checking his watch. “There’s a guy wants a charter Saturday, half a day fishing. I looked up the tides, told him we could sail at nine. That’s right, yeah?”

Cody made a brief calculation and nodded. “Yeah. Good work. Wow, our first charter.”

“Exciting, huh?” Nick grinned, squeezed Cody’s shoulder. “I cleaned the head last night. Figured I’d straighten up in here tonight, in case the weather turns bad and he has to sit inside while we run in. You’ll check the fishing gear and whatever else?”

“Yeah, and fill up the tanks. Thanks, buddy.” Tired as he was, Cody found himself excited about the charter. He stifled a yawn. “See you tonight.”

“Sleep well, man. Sweet dreams.” Nick squeezed Cody’s shoulder again and headed out, and Cody stared after him until the smell of bacon reminded him of his neglected breakfast.

***

Next morning, Cody huddled inside the watchman’s hut, glumly staring through the rain at the gray horizon. He’d switched the radio to the marine forecast at five a.m., and although the harbor looked calm, there were squally conditions further out that meant there’d be no fishing today.

He was soaked and shivering by the time he got back to the boat. “Gotta ring the charter,” he said to Nick. “Can’t sail in this - would ya do it for me, buddy?”

“He already cancelled.” Nick frowned. “Shit, man, I shoulda thought - shoulda come down and picked you up.”

“Then we’d both be wet.” Cody managed a grin. “Your car’s got no roof.”

“You’re a funny guy.” Nick broke into a slow grin. “Get your ass in the shower and I’ll fix us some breakfast. At least this way you get to catch some zees.”

“Thanks, buddy, but I’ll grab something when I wake up. Okay?”

“Sure.” Nick looked briefly troubled, then shrugged. “Go on, man, go warm up.”

Cody went. He hesitated after the shower, thinking of Nick upstairs, but he was exhausted - it had been a long week - and after a moment he went and crawled into his bunk. 

Sleep came quick, and with it, dreams. Perhaps it was the wind whipping up outside, or the heavy-artillery of the downpour on the deck. Perhaps it was the absence of the sun in his cabin, or perhaps it was just time. Cody slipped in and out of consciousness, too tired to wake up, but aware of the dreams, aware and afraid.

A chopper hold, but he was the only one in it. Above a landscape that changed from California to jungle to Saigon to the ocean and back. Nick was flying the chopper, but Nick was also on the ground, far below, surrounded by the enemy. 

They were gonna die, both of them, and they were gonna die alone.

“Cody! Cody!” Nick was screaming to him from below, but that couldn’t be right, because the noise of the chopper was all he could hear. That, and the hammer of the guns. 

Cody tried to scream, tried to call to Nick, tried to make it to the chopper’s hatch, but someone held him back. He fought the unknown soldier, trying to yell, when suddenly the resistance fell away and he was sitting bolt upright, unable to catch his breath, somehow transfixed to the spot.

“Cody.” Nick’s voice was quiet now, close, and Cody looked around wildly. His partner was inches away, beside him, somehow escaped from the VC, not shot, not dead. Unless maybe they both were.

“Are you okay?” He tried to say, but it came out as a whimper, and he reached for Nick blindly.

“It’s okay,” Nick said to him, and moments later he was in Nick’s arms.

Cody slowly found the coordination to hug Nick back, and catalogued his location as California, his partner as undamaged, and the idea of going back to sleep a washout. “Thanks,” he muttered, and rubbed his head against Nick’s shoulder. Back in the MP’s, they’d both had nightmares and learned to help each other through. 

“Yeah,” Nick said, shifting positions without letting go. “You still dream, huh? Has this been happening to you all week, man?”

“Huh?” Cody sat back a little and Nick gave him space, arm still resting around his shoulders. “All week?”

“Since you been working nights. I don’t - I mean, it sounded bad.”

Cody yawned and unashamedly put his head back on Nick’s shoulder. “First time since I been at the boatyard,” he said. “It’s all good. I dream most nights, just like I did back at Fort Ord. But now I’m sleeping in the day, seems like it’s better.”

“This one,” Nick said softly, “didn’t sound better.”

“They were gonna shoot you,” Cody said by way of explanation, revising his ideas about going back to sleep. He yawned again.

“You wanna go back to sleep? Here, shift over.” Nick kicked off his shoes and moved to sit at the head of the bed, leaning against the pillow. “Lay down. I’m gonna sit here with you in case you dream again.You know?”

Cody was too sleepy to protest, and anyway, sleeping with Nick on watch was the safest thing he knew. He rolled over, back against Nick’s leg, and was asleep in seconds.

There were no more dreams. Next time Cody woke it was to Nick rubbing his shoulder and the aroma of coffee. “Hmpf,” Cody mumbled, sitting up, and leaning into Nick’s closeness.

“Okay?” Nick asked, wrapping a protective arm around Cody’s shoulders. “It’s noon. Figured you better wake up if you plan to sleep tonight, you know?”

“Yeah. I guess.” Cody yawned. “Maybe I oughtta stick to my schedule some.”

“Charter’s rebooked for tomorrow, and if it’s all the same to you, I’d prefer if you were the one sailing the boat, man.”

Cody grinned and rubbed his eyes. “Great. And you can count on it. C’mon, I’m starved.”

The next morning was clear and smooth, the clients punctual, the fish swarming their way onto hooks. That evening, decks scrubbed down, boat set to rights, fish on the grill, Cody opened his book and entered their takings on a fresh new page. 

“Diesel’s a better price,” he muttered. “When I add in my check…” He sucked his pencil.

“Should’a been an accountant,” Nick teased, putting two beers on the table and giving Cody’s shoulder a rub as he passed. “Fish is about done. Hungry?”

“Yeah.” Cody put the book aside and looked at the grilled hand-cut wedges already on the table. Nick put a salad down beside them and turned back to the grill. “I’m sorry, pal. I didn’t mean to leave you with fixing dinner.”

“Hey, you did it all week.” Nick put a juicy fillet in front of Cody and sat down beside him with his own plate. He reached for the potatoes. 

Cody took a long drink of beer and inhaled the scent of fresh fish. He put a hand on Nick’s leg and squeezed. “This is something good,” he said, feeling it for the first time. “Nick, we can make a go of this.”

Nick finished serving himself the wedges, picked up his own beer and clinked the bottle with Cody’s. “You bet we can, big guy,” he said, and took a drink. “Here’s to us, and the Riptide.”

Cody nodded, blinking moisture from his eyes. The only drawback of a sea breeze. “To the Riptide,” he agreed. “To us.”


End file.
